The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald

submitted by Spiff
1 decade 7 years 2 weeks ago
The Edmund Fitzgerald was a freighter serving the Great Lakes. On November 10, 1975, she sank after getting caught in a storm on Lake Superior, taking all 29 crew members with her. Canadian folk singer Gordon Lightfoot released this song depicting the event a year later.

21 Comments

siftbotsays...

Tags for this video have been changed from 'shipwreck, tragedy, true story, gales of November, folk song' to 'Gordon Lightfoot, shipwreck, tragedy, true story, gales of November, folk song' - edited by calvados

siftbotsays...

Promoting this video back to the front page; last published Wednesday, October 1st, 2008 7:02am PDT - promote requested by Zifnab.

volumptuoussays...

Growing up in Michigan, we learned every line from this song around 4th grade, and I remember feeling utterly shocked at such a horrible disaster. It was one of the first moments in my life I ever felt the visceral reality of untimely death.

eric3579says...

The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down
of the big lake they called "Gitche Gumee."
The lake, it is said, never gives up her dead
when the skies of November turn gloomy.
With a load of iron ore twenty-six thousand tons more
than the Edmund Fitzgerald weighed empty,
that good ship and true was a bone to be chewed
when the "Gales of November" came early.

The ship was the pride of the American side
coming back from some mill in Wisconsin.
As the big freighters go, it was bigger than most
with a crew and good captain well seasoned,
concluding some terms with a couple of steel firms
when they left fully loaded for Cleveland.
And later that night when the ship's bell rang,
could it be the north wind they'd been feelin'?

The wind in the wires made a tattle-tale sound
and a wave broke over the railing.
And ev'ry man knew, as the captain did too
'twas the witch of November come stealin'.
The dawn came late and the breakfast had to wait
when the Gales of November came slashin'.
When afternoon came it was freezin' rain
in the face of a hurricane west wind.

When suppertime came the old cook came on deck sayin'.
"Fellas, it's too rough t'feed ya."
At seven P.M. a main hatchway caved in; he said,
"Fellas, it's bin good t'know ya!"
The captain wired in he had water comin' in
and the good ship and crew was in peril.
And later that night when 'is lights went outta sight
came the wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald.

Does any one know where the love of God goes
when the waves turn the minutes to hours?
The searchers all say they'd have made Whitefish Bay
if they'd put fifteen more miles behind 'er.
They might have split up or they might have capsized;
they may have broke deep and took water.
And all that remains is the faces and the names
of the wives and the sons and the daughters.

Lake Huron rolls, Superior sings
in the rooms of her ice-water mansion.
Old Michigan steams like a young man's dreams;
the islands and bays are for sportsmen.
And farther below Lake Ontario
takes in what Lake Erie can send her,
And the iron boats go as the mariners all know
with the Gales of November remembered.

In a musty old hall in Detroit they prayed,
in the "Maritime Sailors' Cathedral."
The church bell chimed 'til it rang twenty-nine times
for each man on the Edmund Fitzgerald.
The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down
of the big lake they call "Gitche Gumee."
"Superior," they said, "never gives up her dead
when the gales of November come early!"

Replacing with proper embed. Matched from previous thumbnail *backup=[...snipped...]

Send this Article to a Friend



Separate multiple emails with a comma (,); limit 5 recipients






Your email has been sent successfully!

Manage this Video in Your Playlists




notify when someone comments

 
Create New Playlist
X

This website uses cookies.

This website uses cookies to improve user experience. By using this website you consent to all cookies in accordance with our Privacy Policy.

I agree
  
Learn More